Chasing the Light
by Elanor Gamgee
Summary: Susan Ivanova has been haunted by Marcus's sacrifice for over twenty years. Can time really change anything?


Author's Note: None of these characters, with the exception of Dranar and Ben Apollo, belong to me.  _Babylon__ 5 is the creation of J. Michael Straczynski and all characters, names, and all related indicia are trademarks of Time Warner Entertainment Co.  This story makes explicit reference to events in and uses dialogue from the episodes "Between the Darkness and the Light", "Endgame", "Rising Star", and "Sleeping in Light".  __Quantum Leap is the property of MCA/Universal and Belisarius Productions._

This story is dedicated to Jedi Boadicea for getting me hooked on B5.  She said it would be worth it if I could just make it to Season 3…she was right.

**Chasing the Light**

**A __****Babylon****_ 5_**** fanfiction**

**by Elanor Gamgee**

**October 18, 2283******

_"I love you."_

Susan felt herself being pulled downwards, becoming heavier and heavier, until finally she could feel the soft press of sheets against her skin.  There was a hand holding hers, squeezing it gently, and she gradually became aware of the pounding of her own pulse.  She tried to open her eyes, but couldn't.

_"I love you."_

That voice…it was soft and familiar, and recognition tickled her brain.  She knew that voice.  

_"I love you, Susan."_

The voice was weaker now, fading as if the speaker was moving away from her.  But she still felt the hand, warm in her own.  She forced her heavy eyelids open, and a white light momentarily blinded her.  There was…something…beside her.  Her vision, once her eyes adjusted to the light, was hazy, but she could make out a shape to her right.  Something warm, and solid.  She willed her head to move toward it, and her skull moved fractionally on her neck, as though on a rusty hinge.  

His hair had fallen over his face, obscuring his eyes.  He was curled up beside her on the bed, his hand wrapped around her own, but there was an unnerving stillness about him.   She tried to turn her head further, but it would not move, so she strained her eyes to look around the room.

And then she saw it: the machine.  The alien device that had no business being anywhere near him, or her.  The cords from it snaked up his arm and wound around his neck as she watched, horrified.  She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out.  She tried to move her hands to claw the wires away, but she was paralyzed.  The wires were crawling up her own arm now, threatening to overtake her.  She focused all her will and moved her right arm, dislodging the cords from her wrist and knocking his arm away in the process.  He fell onto his back, and his hair fell away from his forehead, revealing a sunken, shriveled face.  Her mouth opened in a soundless scream, and she fought desperately to move, but every limb was frozen.  She forced her eyes closed, but the image of that face was burned against her eyelids, filling up every corner of her vision.  She felt the hand squeezing hers again, but its touch filled her with dread and fear, and this time the scream tore from her throat without effort.  Her eyes flew open, and Marcus was there before her, safe and whole and gazing at her with concern, but she was being pulled away into blackness, and she couldn't hear the words his lips formed…

Susan Ivanova woke abruptly from the nightmare to find herself in a heap on the floor.  She automatically sat up and pulled her bent legs close to her chest, resting her forehead on her knees.  Fighting to steady her breath, she tried to ignore her racing pulse and the echoes of the dream she had experienced far too many times over the past twenty-two years.  

She struggled to her feet, fighting to maintain her balance though there was no one there to see her fall.  "Damn bed," she muttered, casting a dark look at the Minbari bed she had just slid out of.  She had lived on Minbar for nearly two years now, and had never been able to get used to the sloped beds, no matter how good for her soul it was supposed to be.  In her own quarters on Minbar, she had long since had the bed adjusted.  But here, on the _White Star __87, out on this training mission with the new batch of recruits to the Rangers, she had given way to her crew's superstition that a flat bed was bad luck._

Well, she had for one night anyway.  "I'm having it adjusted first thing in the morning," she said to the darkness.  She wasn't sure why she felt the need to say this aloud, except that the sound of her own voice, talking about normal everyday things like adjusting the bed, gave her a sort of anchor against the recalled flickers of the dream that threatened to pull her toward despair.  

Susan cleared her throat and threw back her shoulders defiantly, and then felt her way toward the bottle of acetizyne tablets on the table at the head of the bed.  She prised the lid off and swallowed two of the tablets; it had been some time since she had needed them, but it had been even longer since she had dared to sleep without a bottle of the pills within reach.  Each time she thought the dream might have left her for good, it came back in new and more terrifying forms.  _Probably drawn back by my own guilt, she thought wryly, and immediately pushed away the idea of any humor, of any kind, being associated with that dream.  She climbed back onto the sloped bed, sliding only slightly toward the deck before stopping herself.  She lay perfectly still and let her eyelids droop as the acetizyne took effect, and the blackness pushed at the edges of her mind.  It was relaxing, really, falling into a dreamless sleep like this…_

Something stroked her hand, like the softest touch, or perhaps a gentle breath…

_"I love you..."_

~**~

"Entil'Zha!"

"Yes, what is it?" Susan didn't stop walking as Dranar fell into step beside her.

"Everything is nearly in place for this morning's exercise.  However, there's been a slight problem with the battle simulation.  Field generator 3 appears to be malfunctioning, and _White Star 23 is waiting in hyperspace.  They want to know whether they should proceed as scheduled or wait."_

Susan rubbed the back of her neck absently.  She was feeling cranky this morning—cranky and unsettled.  "I thought the field generators were all checked out last night," she said, frowning.  

Dranar nodded.  "They were all functioning properly last night." He looked at her, and paused.  "Did you sleep comfortably?"

Susan stopped rubbing her neck and gave him a baleful look.  "The bed's being adjusted as we speak."  She shook a finger at him.  "Don't give me that look.  It's worse luck for me to be this cranky."

Dranar bowed his head slightly, but she saw the traces of a smile around his mouth.  He cleared his throat.   "What shall I tell _White Star 23?"_

Susan sighed.  "Tell them to stand by until further notice.  Where's Ben?"

"Science Lab 2, I believe."

"Good.  I'll go find him and we'll get the generator back online.  Let everyone else know that we will be ready shortly."

Dranar nodded and withdrew, and Susan continued down the polished white corridor alone.  She wasn't at all surprised to hear that Ben was holed up in the Science Lab again—it seemed he was always tinkering with something.  His technical skills made him a valuable asset to the Rangers, when you could actually get him to focus on the project at hand.  He had been an engineer with Earth Force before he came to the Rangers, and apparently his commanding officers had not had much patience with his distracted brilliance.  Both Susan and Delenn believed in second chances, so they had given Ben the opportunity to prove himself, and for the most part, he had lived up to their trust.  However, after working with him for over a year, Susan could see why he had not made it in Earth Force; his obliviousness to all else when wrapped in a problem to solve was maddening.  He was completely undisciplined.  Just like—

Susan passed through the doors of the Science Lab and looked around.  The lighting was low, and so it took her a moment to make out Ben, hunched over a tangle of wires and metal on a low platform.

"Ben," she said, walking toward him.  He did not appear to hear her, so she raised her voice slightly.  "Ben."

The young man started and turned toward her, and she immediately recognized the slightly manic glint in his eye.  Obviously, he was enmeshed in one of his projects.  

Ben Apollo was an odd-looking fellow, with offbeat looks to match his personality.  He was shorter than Susan, with a slight frame that hardly seemed sturdy enough to support his gangly arms and long legs.  His flyaway brown hair was generally disheveled, as though he had just rolled out of bed to apply himself immediately to some puzzle.  Most startling, however, were his eyes: one green, one brown, they shone out of his round, boyish face with frenzied excitement when he was engaged in one of his projects, but gave him a strange, slightly-out-of-phase-with-reality quality most of the time.  In spite of his odd appearance, Ben was known to be something of a ladies' man, particularly among the Minbari Rangers.

"Lights up," Ben said in Minbari, and the illumination in the lab increased to its normal level.  "Entil'Zha," he said, inclining his head slightly.  "What is it?"

Susan crossed the room to him.  "What are you working on now?"  She frowned at the mass of wires before her.  It reminded her of something, but she couldn't place what.

Ben looked down at the machine too, and his ears went pink.  "It's…nothing.  Just something I was working on for my own amusement."

Susan grinned, intrigued.  It was unlike Ben not to spout out the technical details of his projects, given the slightest encouragement.  "What is it?"

Ben looked up at her sheepishly.  "Have you ever seen an old program called _Quantum Leap?"_

Susan shook her head.  "Never heard of it."

"It was a drama from the twentieth century.  Time travel stories.  My Quantum Physics professor at York used to show us episodes from it to demonstrate how wrong the early research in the field was.  Only," he shrugged, "it's a great show.  I got hooked on it."

"So…what does that have to do with this thing?"

Ben sighed.  "Well, the show was about this scientist who constructs a machine to allow him to jump into different people at different points in his own lifetime.  He has to keep jumping around from person to person, and every time he jumps he has to change something before he can move on.  You know, make history right, that kind of thing.  And when he leaps into someone's body, they wind up in the lab where the machine is until he leaps again."

Susan stared at him, waiting for the point.  

Ben cleared his throat.  "Right, so, I was watching it last night, and I started thinking that my professor was wrong—the machine is actually feasible with some modifications.  It could happen.  So I came down here and started fiddling around to see if I could do it."

"How long have you been in here?"

Ben looked around vaguely.  "I don't know.  Ten hours, maybe?"

Susan rolled her eyes.  "Ben, you've got to stop doing this."

"But I've almost got it, I think."  Ben didn't even seem to have heard her comment, and turned back to the machine.  

"Really?" said Susan, looking at the apparatus again.  It seemed such a small thing, to have so much power.  "This is actually a time travel device?"

"Well, it's not exactly the same," said Ben, leaning forward and carefully connecting two wires with a molecular fuser.  "It won't preserve the host body the way they did on the show.  I know they made that up, because I don't see how that's even scientifically possible."

"So wait," said Susan, horrified, "you mean, if someone jumped, or leaped, or whatever, into a person from the past, the person they leap into is destroyed?  Just…puffed out of existence?"

"Pretty much," said Ben nonchalantly.  "But, the other big difference is that this is targeted.  You can set exactly where, and when, and who you jump into.  See? You can set it to within fifteen minutes."  He pointed to the front of the display and twisted one of the knobs.

"Ben," Susan said in exasperation, "you can't just go creating something like this.  There are moral implications to what you're doing.  Did you even think about that?  If this falls into the wrong hands—"

Ben fixed his disquieting eyes on her, his expression vaguely puzzled.  "But, it's only theoretical.  There's no way to test it anyway.  This requires an enormous, sustained tachyon field.  There's no natural source of tachyon emissions that could supply enough energy, and any artificial field would burn out long before the device was even triggered."

"Oh." Susan frowned at the machine again.  "Then why bother?"

Ben looked startled.  "Because…I can," he said, as though it should be obvious.

Susan laughed slightly and shook her head.  "Look, Ben, you can work on your project that has no practical applications later.  Right now, I need you to take a look at field generator 3.  It's malfunctioning, and we need to get this simulation started."

Ben nodded absently, already hunched over his machine again.  "Just one minute…"

"Ben," Susan said sharply.  "Now."

He sighed and sat up, putting down the fuser.  "Yes, Entil'Zha."  He pulled a cloth over the machine and pushed the platform back against the wall.  Susan waited for him to reach the door of the lab, then followed him out, casting a glance back at the shrouded machine in the corner.

~**~

She was lying on her back, maintaining perfect stillness on the sloped bed.  Her uniform jacket was making her right arm itch, but she knew that if she moved to scratch it, she would slide down the bed.  

Something passed in front of her face, a flicker of shadow sensed, rather than seen, through her closed eyes.

"You'll never know…" whispered a gentle voice above her.

"But I already do," she said out loud, her eyes still closed.  "I already know."  She opened her eyes, and Marcus was there, giving her a slightly frightened look.

She met his eyes.  "I know," she whispered.  "I've always known."

He stared at her for a long moment, then reached out one hand and stroked her cheek.  "I love you."

Susan shook her head.  "All love is unrequited," she said sadly.  "All of it."

Marcus laughed softly.  He lifted her right hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across the back of it.  "No, it isn't.  You know better than that."

Susan pressed her eyes shut and squeezed his hand, but it was slipping out of her grasp.  "It's too late," she gasped.  "There's nothing—"

"Susan," he said, but his voice was fading; he was being pulled away from her.  She opened her eyes, but all was darkness, and she couldn't see him anywhere.

"Marcus!" she called.

_"Susan…" His voice floated to her across the distance.  And then he spoke again, his voice a low whisper directly next to her ear.  _

"_Faith manages."_

Susan sprang awake with a sharp gasp. "Lights," she barked, and the lights in her quarters gradually rose in intensity.  She stared around the room, trying to get her bearings and remember where she was.  

She remembered the dream with startling clarity, and it was perhaps the most disturbing variation she had ever had.  She bent her head, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.  He'd been there, alive and well, and with no life-sucking machines hooked to him…

_"You can set exactly where, and when, and who you jump into…"_

_"This requires an enormous, sustained tachyon field.  There's no natural source of tachyon emissions that could supply enough energy, and any artificial field would burn out long before the device was even triggered…"_

Before she had even made the conscious decision to do it, she was fully dressed, in a shuttle, with Ben Apollo's machine on the seat beside her.  For perhaps the first time in her life, Susan Ivanova was following her heart.

~**~

The journey to Epsilon 3 passed quickly, as though in a dream, and Susan vaguely wondered when her more practical side would kick in and convince her that what she was doing was wrong.  She wasn't sure if Ben's machine would even work, and even if it did, she had no way of knowing if it would put her down in the right place.  _The right time, she corrected herself.  _

The enormity of what she was doing seemed to hit her all at once, and she closed her eyes.  But was it wrong?  She searched her heart for any shred of doubt, and could find none. _It's no different from what he did, she realized, opening her eyes.  __No more right, no more wrong.  It's just what I have to do.  She felt, for the first time, that she understood why he had saved her—why it had been, for him, the only option.  _

She navigated the shuttle into the space above Epsilon 3, noting how empty the planet's orbit appeared without the familiar shape of Babylon 5 gracing it.  She hadn't been back here since the station had been decommissioned two years earlier, and she realized now that she had been avoiding it.  There were so many memories in that place, good and bad, but its absence hit her forcefully now.  It was depressing to see this once busy and well-traveled part of space so abandoned and empty.   

On the other hand, it made her task much simpler.

Susan steered the shuttle into the heart of the Great Machine without difficulty.  It was almost, she reflected, as if it had known she was coming, which was entirely possible.  But she was approaching the most difficult part of this venture; she was fairly certain that Draal would not agree to help her.  But she would find a way.  She had come too far not to.  _ I have__ come far, she thought wryly, __and distance is only part of it._

Gathering Ben's machine to her, Susan opened the shuttle doors and emerged into the shadowed halls of the Great Machine.  The walls about her hummed with energy, and as always she had the feeling that the smooth stone was a living entity, watching her every step.  She moved down the empty corridors, searching for signs of life, and came out into a broad chamber with doorways leading off to corridors in every direction.  She paced around the edge of the room, looking down the corridors and wondering which one to take.  A distant clicking and muttering down one passage decided her instantly, and she plunged into the dim hallway, moving toward the sound.

"Zathras?" she called.

The clicking stopped.  "Eh?" said a loud voice from somewhere above her.  "Someone calls Zathras?"

Susan looked up, and saw a hulking figure apparently attached to the wall above her head.  

"Zathras?" she repeated, straining to see him more clearly.

The figure moved down the wall toward her, and his bulky furs and wrinkled face became visible.  She realized he was descending a clear ladder that was built into the wall.

"Zathras is coming," he said, sounding rather grumpy.  "Zathras is used to being called.  All day Zathras is coming when someone calls him.  Zathras thinks maybe he would like to be the one calling sometimes, but no, Zathras must always be the one coming."

Susan frowned as he reached the floor.  "Wait," she said, "Are you the same Zathras I met here before?  Or a different one?  There are ten of you, right?"

"Yes, you met Zathras and Zathras, but not Zathras and Zathras and Zathras and Zathras and Zathras and Zathras and Zathras and Zathras and Zathras and Zathras," he said, as if this explained everything.

Susan nodded, though she wasn't sure if he actually answered her question or not.  It didn't matter anyway.  "I need your help," she said.  "I need a sustained tachyon field."

Zathras eyed the bundle she had clutched to her chest.  "What are you bringing here?"

Susan took a deep breath.  "Oh, it's just a little machine.  I know that Draal wouldn't mind sparing a little tachyon to help me run it.  And really," she threw her self-respect to the wind, and stepped forward to lay a flattering hand on his furry arm, "there's no need to disturb Draal with this.  You know so much about the Great Machine…I'm sure you can help me."

Zathras swelled slightly at this praise, though she had been sure her real motives would be blatantly obvious.  He leaned forward slightly and said, in a conspiratorial tone, "Zathras is good at knowings.  Zathras, he was good at doings, but Zathras," he pointed proudly to himself, "Zathras is good at knowings AND doings."

Susan smiled her most dazzling smile.  "I knew you could help me," she said sweetly.

"Follow Zathras," he said, leading her down the corridor and into another long, low chamber, muttering proudly to himself the whole way.

He stopped by a stone table.  "Show Zathras the machine." 

Susan set the machine down carefully on the table.  She had already set the targeting dials, but she fiddled with them again, checking for the hundredth time that they were set to the right moment.  "All I need is a sustained tachyon field, wavelength of two meters, particle density at…" She glanced up at Zathras quickly, and then returned her gaze to the machine.  "Level ten."

Zathras didn't answer right away, and she looked up to see him staring suspiciously at the machine.  "What is this machine for doing?" 

Susan straightened up and adopted her most commanding tone.  "That's not important.  Can you provide the field?"

But Zathras came forward and began examining the machine, running his fingers over the sides and top, and clicking his tongue repeatedly.  Finally he looked up.  "Time machine," he said.  "Zathras knows about time machines.  Zathras told you, Zathras is good at knowings. Dangerous things are time machines.  Zathras told Zathras that, but Zathras did not listen.  No one listens to Zathras."

"I know what I'm doing," said Susan harshly.  "Can you send me back or not?"

Zathras gave her a dubious look, as if he didn't think she really knew what she was doing at all, and continued running his hands over the machine, examining the dials.  He shook his head, muttering, "No good.  No good."

"What's no good?"

"This time machine is not working.  There is no way to come back."

"It doesn't matter," said Susan softly.  "I'm not coming back."

Zathras looked at her again, then shook his head.  "No, no, no.  Zathras cannot be doing this.  Draal would not like it."

Susan sighed.  "I was afraid you would say that."  She pulled out the PPG hidden at her waist and pointed it at him.  "Send me back," she ordered.  "Now."

Zathras's eyes widened at the sight of the weapon in her hand, and he clicked his tongue frantically.  Susan held the PPG steady, realizing with detached interest that she was actually fully prepared to pull the trigger if it came to that.  Zathras seemed to realize this as well, because he moved slowly toward the tachyon field controls and pressed a few buttons.  Susan watched him carefully to make sure that he cooperated, and a moment later a blue field enveloped the room.  Susan stepped forward and placed her hand on the machine, and the stone chamber dissolved into flashes of light before her eyes.  She felt herself being ripped from her body, and then a long sense of nothingness.

~**~

**November 22, 2261******

_Leaping, Ben had called it.  It was an accurate description.  She felt as if she had jumped off a cliff; there was the long fall through oblivion, and then, abruptly, noise and chaos, and a sense of slamming into a body only partially her own.  _

"Susan!"

Marcus's voice.  She whirled around, and he was there, safe and whole, and looking at her expectantly.

"If we let it get away they'll bring back reinforcements," she heard her own voice saying.  It sounded hard and desperate.  "Stay on course."

Marcus bent his head and moved his hands across the panel.  Reflections from the explosions outside the ship danced across the bridge, and Susan knew she should turn around, that she should be paying attention to the battle, but it all seemed suddenly less important than the fact that Marcus was there in front of her, alive.

"Navigational control damaged.  Working to repair," said Marcus, his fingers flying across the controls.

"How many left?" asked Susan automatically.

Marcus answered her, but his response was drowned out by the adrenaline pounding through her ears as she realized what moment this was.  Without looking back, she pitched herself forward over the command chair and rolled behind Marcus's station.

"Susan!" came his shout, and then the explosion.  Noise and debris and dust filled the bridge.  

Susan coughed and tried to sit up, but something was preventing her.  Marcus had been knocked backwards on top of her, his head resting on her stomach.

"Marcus!" she cried, suddenly panicked.  What if she had done it wrong?  What if he'd been hurt?

Marcus coughed slightly and opened his eyes.  "Nice pillow you make," he said with a grin.

"Are you all right?"

Marcus sat up.  "Yes, I'm fine.  Are you hurt at all?"  She wondered how she ever could have missed the concern in his eyes, the way he focused so carefully on _her._

Susan braced her hands against the floor to push herself up and felt a shooting pain in her left wrist.  She gasped sharply and cradled her arm to her chest.

"You're hurt," said Marcus, kneeling beside her.

"It's nothing," said Susan with a laugh.  "I'll be fine."  She looked up into his eyes, and Marcus pulled her to her feet by her unhurt hand.  She didn't let go of his hand, and he gave her a quizzical look.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said, unable to look away from his eyes.  She laughed again.  "I'm better than fine.  I'm perfect."

He looked down at her left arm.  "We need to get you medical treatment."  He made to turn away, but she held tightly to his hand.

"Marcus," she whispered.

He met her gaze, and she could see the beginnings of wary hope in his eyes.  He didn't say anything, however.  He was waiting for her, just as he had always been.  Waiting for her to give him permission to love her.

She lapsed into Minbari.  "I love you."  His eyes widened, and she laughed softly.  "I told you I'd learned more Minbari," she said, switching to English.

Marcus looked down at their joined hands, then back up at her face.  "Susan, I…"

"I know," she whispered, pressing her face against his shoulder.  "I've always known.  I was just too stupid to admit it."

He hooked one finger under her chin and lifted her face to his.  "You're not stupid," he said.

Susan smiled.  "Not anymore."

And then his arms were around her, and his lips were on hers.  The pain in her wrist seemed to vanish as he kissed her with all the gentle intensity she had imagined.  

_Yes, I've come a long way, said a voice in the back of her head, __and it was worth every step._

~**~

Susan looked in the mirror yet again, rearranging her hair.  She felt stupid, wearing it down.  She felt like she should just put it back into a ponytail and be done with it.  But she wanted this to be special, and she didn't have any clothes other than her uniform, so putting her hair down was the only thing she could think to do.

She and Marcus had come aboard Delenn's ship three hours earlier.  Their own ship had been hit substantially in the battle, and their moment of perfect serenity on the bridge had been abruptly halted by the need to clean up and take stock of the damage.  Susan's wrist, which was severely sprained but not broken, had been bandaged.  Marcus had hovered around her like a worried mother bird while this was happening, and any desire she might have had to laugh at his behavior was squelched quickly by the thought of where his worry could have taken him—of where it _had taken him, when she was hurt much worse._

But now that Delenn was back in command of the _White Star fleet, and repairs had been seen to and plans laid, Susan was here in her quarters, and she was __nervous._

_"You should both get some rest now," Delenn had told them.  She had looked back and forth between Susan and Marcus, and Susan had wondered if she had noticed the difference in the air between them.  Knowing Delenn, she wouldn't have been at all surprised if she had.  If Delenn __had noticed anything, however, she had kept a discreet silence about it.  Of course, knowing Delenn, this would be no surprise either._

Susan and Marcus had exchanged a look as they had separated to go their quarters, and she knew he would come to her shortly.  It was what she wanted, more than anything, and yet her stomach still twisted with nerves at the thought.  

It wasn't fair that this was still so awkward.  After twenty-two years of dreaming, and all she had done, she should be better at this by now.  She sighed in frustration and yanked her hair into a ponytail.

"Leave it down," said a soft voice behind her, sending chills up her spine.  "I like it when you wear it down."

She turned, unable to keep a small smile from tugging at her lips, and there was Marcus in the doorway.  He crossed the room to her, never taking his eyes from hers, and pushed her hair back from her face, arranging it on her shoulders.  "See?" he said, turning her around to face the mirror again.  "Beautiful."

She rolled her eyes.  "Flatterer."

"Only when it's true."  His hands fluttered along her shoulders and down her arms, and his eyes met hers in the mirror.  She smiled nervously, all at once feeling that she didn't deserve him.  His face grew somber.  "Susan…you don't know how long I've waited—"

"I've waited longer," she interrupted softly.  He raised his eyebrows at her, and she grinned.  "Well, maybe not quite as…patiently as you have."  She turned around and put her arms around his neck.  "Nervous?" she said with a smile.

He shook his head, wrapping his arms around her waist, and she could see by the look in his eyes that this was the truth.  Why, then, did she feel like a young, inexperienced girl?  No one had ever had this effect on her before—not even the first time.  When he bent his head to kiss her, she felt it all the way down to her toes.  It was as if he put every bit of denied passion from the past two years into that one kiss, and Susan could feel the pain and relief and joy emanating from him.  Or maybe she felt those things so strongly from him because they mirrored her own emotions.

Before she had consciously realized it, she was tugging at his sleeve, pulling him back with her towards the bed.  He raised his head and stopped her.

"Susan," he said, bringing one hand up to stroke her cheek.  "Are you sure this is what you want?"

She looked up at him incredulously, ready to deliver a sarcastic comeback to deflect the wave of insecurity she felt at his words, but the expression on his face silenced her.  It was the same one he had worn earlier, waiting for her to tell him that his feelings were allowed, were welcome, and it was so exactly like the one he had worn in her dreams for twenty-two years that she nearly burst into tears on the spot.

As it was, her throat was so tight she couldn't speak, but she nodded and pulled his mouth to hers, hoping this would be enough of an answer for him.  Apparently it was, because he lifted her lightly in his arms and carried her over to the bed, depositing her gently upon it.  He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over her, pushing her hair back from her face.  Susan had a powerful sensation of déjà vu, a memory of him leaning over her like that before….

_"I love you," whispered a voice in the back of her mind, and Susan pushed away the dream images.  It hadn't happened, not really.  None of it had—she had made sure of that.  And it never would happen.  She wouldn't let it._

"What's wrong?" said Marcus, concern evident in his eyes.

"Nothing," said Susan, meaning the word more fervently than she ever had in her life.  She took his hand.  "I want this to be perfect for you."

Marcus laughed softly and kissed her forehead.  "It already is," he whispered, centimeters away from her mouth, and she shivered in delicious anticipation.  A moment later, his lips were on hers, and he had swung himself up onto the bed beside her.  His mouth traveled over her face and neck as he whispered incoherent words of love against her skin. She gave herself up to his touch, to _Marcus, who would never leave her, and would never hurt her, and who loved her._

~**~

"How do you feel?" Susan whispered.

Marcus considered this for a moment.  "Like I just made love to the most beautiful woman in the universe."

She snorted and pushed him off of her in mock-disgust.  He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, cupping her face with one hand to make her look at him.  "Don't do that," he said.  "I mean it."  He leaned forward and whispered in her ear.  "I love you, Susan Ivanova, and you _are beautiful, whether you want to admit it or not."_

She took in the sincerity in his expression and knew that he meant it.  Then again, she had known that he meant it the first time he had said it, so long ago.  Why did she fight it, even now?  

"I'm sorry," she said.  "I don't take compliments well, I guess."

Marcus smirked.  "So I've noticed.  I suppose I just have to give you more practice then.  Gorgeous lady."  He ran one hand along her side and bent to kiss her neck.  Susan smiled.  

"Susan," he said, raising his head again and looking into her face, his expression suddenly serious.  "I want you to know something." He searched her eyes.  "I would…do anything for you."

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and a lump formed in her throat.  She brought both hands up to cup his face, unable to speak, and then pulled him close to her and buried her face in his shoulder.

"I know," she finally managed to get out, but her words were muffled against his shoulder.  

She wondered if he knew even half as well as she did just how much he would do for her.  _It doesn't matter, she told herself fiercely.  __He'll never have to find out.  _

~**~

**November 24, 2261******

"…and that's the plan," Sheridan finished.  He looked around the table, and Susan could see the fine lines around his eyes, lines that had not been there before his recent ordeal.  She was amazed at how _together he was, when he had only been delivered safely from his captors two days before.  Of course, she had known he would be here to command this last battle against Earth, but she hadn't been there herself the first time.  She hadn't gotten to see it._

Susan wished she could reassure him, could let him know that everything would turn out all right.  Let him know that everything he had been through wasn't in vain.  _But then, she thought suddenly, __I don't know that.  Things have changed already.  She frowned.  How could her preventing her own injury and Marcus's death change the course of the battle?  A ridiculous thought.  __If anything, she thought with an inner smirk, __we should win more quickly._

"Any questions?" said Sheridan.  The people around the table, an assortment of humans, Minbari, and other races, all shook their heads.  "All right, then," said Sheridan, a steely note in his voice.  "We move in one hour."

The others began to disperse, and Susan leaned over and touched Sheridan's arm.  "John," she said quietly.  "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He looked up at her, apparently surprised.  "Of course," he said after a moment, and then followed her to a quiet corner of the room.

Susan turned to face him, biting her lip slightly.  She had been debating how much she should tell him.  She couldn't in good conscience let him go into this battle without sharing at least some of what she knew; after all, it might save lives.  But she couldn't expect him to believe the truth of how she got that information, and indeed, she didn't _want to tell him that.  She had decided to be vague, and she hoped this approach would work._

"Susan, what is it?"

She clasped her hands in front of her.  "I don't trust Clark."

He snorted.  "That's hardly news.  None of us do."

"No, I mean, I _really don't trust him.  I think we've underestimated just how much he's capable of.  We need to be careful.  Be prepared for anything."_

Sheridan frowned.  "Susan, we're doing this, one way or another.  There's no backing down now."

"I know! I know, and I'm not saying we should."  She sighed in frustration.  "I'm just saying, he's not as noble as you are.  Just remember that.  I know you want a clean fight.  Just don't be surprised when he fights dirty."

Sheridan nodded somberly. 

Susan took a deep breath.  "And I think that taking out the planetary defense platforms should be our first priority."

Sheridan's expression quickly turned to one of shock.  "Susan, we can't do that without at least giving them a _chance—"_

"Fine," she interrupted.  She hadn't expected him to go with her on that, and she bit her lip against giving him more information.  "Just…be ready to do it, quickly, if we have to.  I just have…a feeling it will be necessary."

He gave her an odd look, and Susan cursed inwardly.  It was too much responsibility, knowing what was to come and not being able to do anything about it.  

"I'll keep that in mind," he said.  "Is that all?"

"No, actually, there's one more thing.  This is important."  Susan remembered how she had planned to ask him to do this in the last battle, even before she had been injured in that other timeline.  She only hoped that he would still do it, even when it wasn't her dying wish.  "This fight is about Earth.  You can't lead this one from a _White Star.  You need to do it from an Earth ship, and I think it should be from the __Agamemnon."  She looked up at him.  "Do it for me."_

He stared at her.  "When did you get so symbolic?"

She laughed.  "So you'll do it then?"

"Yes.  You're right.  That's where I should be."  He looked over her head at something and smiled.  "Now, Commander, we both need to get ready to move out.  Besides," he leaned closer to her and dropped his voice, "I think someone's waiting for you."

She turned and saw Marcus standing just outside the doorway.  His face lit up as their eyes met, and she had trouble hiding her own smile at the sight of him.  Behind her, she heard Sheridan snicker slightly.  She turned back to him, gave him a stern look, and said, "You be quiet."  Then she lifted her head and walked over to meet Marcus with all the dignity she could muster while wearing a silly grin.

Marcus's hand found hers right away; despite the fact that they both tried to maintain some decorum when around other people, they seemed incapable of not having some sort of physical contact.  

He squeezed her hand.  "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she said with a nod, looking into his eyes.  "Let's do it."

~**~

"Captain Sheridan, this is an emergency transmission.  President Clark is dead.  He took his own life before we could arrest him."  Senator Crosby's voice rang through the ship, and Susan clenched her hands into fists, knowing what was coming next.  "But he left a message on his desk," the senator's voice continued.  "Two words: scorched Earth.  Captain, I believe he's turned the defense grid toward earth. We can't override the systems here.  If you don't stop them, they'll fire in ten minutes.  Captain, the particle beams on those defense platforms can level forty percent of the planet's surface.  You have to stop them before they can fire."

She had known this was coming, of course, but hearing the words, and seeing the massive grey structures turning toward her home planet still gave her a sick feeling in her stomach.

"I tried to tell him," Susan muttered weakly.  "I tried to warn him."

Sheridan's voice cut through her thoughts, ringing through the bridge the way the senator's voice had.  "Sheridan to attack fleet.  You heard the senator.  All ships, fire at will."

"Right," said Susan, jumping to her feet.  "Give me full fire power.  We've got to take out those platforms.  Target nearest platform and hit it hard."  Energy beams from the _White Star sliced through the space in front of them and drilled into the defense platform.  The platform turned toward them and released a rapid succession of missiles in their direction._

"Evasive action!" shouted Susan, and the ship soared out of the missiles' path, receiving only a few glancing blows.  "Come around to the side and hit it again," she ordered.

The full force of the _White Star's weapons was unleashed upon the platform, but this time they did not evade its return fire so easily.  The missiles slammed into the front of the ship, explosions of sparks and lights from the inside of the bridge mirroring those outside as the defense platform burst into a ball of flame.  She heard a shout behind her, and whirled around to see Marcus thrown backward as his panel exploded in a shower of sparks._

"No!" she screamed, leaping over a pile of debris to get to him.  She dropped to her knees beside him and pulled his head into her lap, cold fear gripping her heart.

"Marcus!  Marcus, can you hear me?"

His eyes opened groggily and blinked blood out of them; there was a large gash on his forehead.  Susan laughed in relief.  "You're all right," she said.

He looked up at her as though her voice was coming from a long way off, and brought his hand up to his chest.  That was when she saw it: a shard of crystal from the panel, broken off and lodged in the left side of his chest.  She let out a heavy sob.  Marcus looked down at his chest, then back up at her, his face slack.

"Marcus!  Marcus, damn it, stay with me," she cried, shaking him slightly.  "Come on, you're going to be all right.  You've got to stay with me."

He closed his eyes and shook his head.  "Susan," he whispered, with effort.

"Listen to me," she said fiercely, clutching at his arms.  "You can't leave me.  I can't lose you again.  Marcus!  Stay with me."

"Susan," he repeated.  His voice was so weak that she had to bend toward him to hear it.  She was vaguely aware of the noise of battle all around her, but her sphere of reality had been winnowed down to one thing: Marcus, lying before her, blood staining the front of his dark Ranger uniform.  "Susan…there's something…I need to tell you."

"No," she practically shouted.  "Don't say your goodbyes.  You're going to be fine.  Listen to me, you have to stay with me.  There's something on Babylon 5 that can help you.  We can make you better.  I promise."  Tears were falling freely down her face now; she couldn't recall when they had started.

He shook his head again, and his face contorted in pain.  "Susan," he said, opening his eyes.  They focused on her with startling clarity, as if he was putting every bit of his strength into maintaining their focus.  "It's all right," he whispered.  He reached out and took her hand.  "I love you.  I can't…remember ever not loving you…" He convulsed slightly and Susan sobbed again.   "When I…was young, I always wondered…what my purpose was.  I thought it was being a Ranger…but…it was you, Susan."  His eyes closed tightly in pain once more.  "It was you."

"Marcus," she whispered, "I love you."  His head fell back against her lap, and his hand went limp in hers.  "I love you," she repeated, and then collapsed into sobs, staring at his lifeless face.

~**~

**December 11, 2261******

_"In related __Babylon__ 5 news, in one of his last acts as an officer of Earth Force, Captain John Sheridan promoted Susan Ivanova to the rank of full captain.  Citing the death of a close friend and other personal reasons, Captain Ivanova has asked for and received a transfer to one of the new Warlock-class destroyers for a one-year shakedown cruise.  In a statement issued a few hours ago, Captain Ivanova said only, "I need to decide where my heart belongs before the rest of me can follow.  After the press conference at Earth Dome this morning—"_

"Off," said Susan, and the ISN broadcast shut off, leaving the room mercifully silent.  She stuffed the last of her clothes into her suitcase and clasped it shut.  

Her quarters were nearly bare now, decorated only by a stack of boxes near the door.  She would leave in the morning, and she mostly felt that it wouldn't be soon enough.  She wanted to get away from this place, from anywhere that reminded her of him at every turn.

Cursing the tears that welled up in her eyes, Susan sat down on the bed and buried her face in her hands.  It wasn't _fair.  Things were supposed to have changed, to have been better this time.  And here she was, the same empty feeling in her heart, the same dead body locked in a cryogenic chamber at her request, the same sensation of being utterly lost when she thought about her future without him.  It was odd, really, that she could feel so afraid about the future when she knew so much about it already.  But maybe the knowing was what made it worse—knowing how it felt to be haunted by him.  _

And now….now she knew exactly what she had lost.  She could close her eyes and remember his lips against hers, the gentleness of his touch.  It wasn't only in her imagination now, but in her memory and in her heart, for her to carry with her always.  The burden seemed so heavy, and yet she never would have given it up.  

"Oh, Marcus," she whispered.  "I love you."

~**~

**October 14, 2281******

_Nothing changes, thought Susan bitterly.  It was a thought she had harbored often in the past twenty years, and it hit her now as she watched John laughing with Stephen and Michael.  Vir had long since passed out in the corner.  She remembered this evening from a lifetime ago, and it was no more comprehensible to her now.  She glanced over at Delenn, and was unsurprised to find Delenn watching her.  Susan gave her a small smile.  She knew she had been withdrawn all evening, and Delenn had asked her more than once whether she was all right.  She should try to cheer up, to at least put on a brave face, but John's imminent…departure, along with the thick air of remembrance that had hung over the evening, was weighing her down.   The others had laughed and reminisced over dinner, but Susan had been unable to join in.  She still felt the pain too keenly, even after twenty years lived twice.  Time was supposed to heal wounds, but Susan felt it had only made hers worse.  _

_"A toast," John had said at dinner, __"to absent friends in memory still bright."_

The others had raised their glasses and recited the names of those friends, and she had joined them, speaking Marcus's name without hesitation this time.  It was her place; it was her right and duty to remember him.  He had been hers, for a little while.

Susan rubbed her hands over her face and turned to slip out into the hallway. She thought she might cry, but she had no tears left.  The long years of bitterness had left her without even that small comfort.

"Susan," said Delenn's voice behind her, and Susan smiled.  She had known Delenn would follow her, remembered this conversation from that other lifetime.  _The only thing that's changed, she thought bitterly as she turned around, __is me._

"Are you all right?"  Delenn asked, for at least the fifth time that night.

"I'm fine," said Susan, but she knew her delivery was hardly convincing.  This was the part where she was supposed to confide in Delenn, she knew—to open her heart and share her feelings.  But there was too much weighing on her now, too much lodged close to her heart that she could never share with anyone.  She settled for squeezing Delenn's arm sympathetically.  "How are you handling this?"

Delenn's face grew taut.  "We have had twenty years to talk about it and prepare.  I am ready, as much as anyone can be ready.  I'm going to miss him.  I'm going to miss him terribly, Susan."

Susan wondered what it would have been like to _know, to prepare for the loss.  She couldn't imagine it would lessen the hurt at all.  "So will I."_

"Is that why you were so quiet?"

There it was, the invitation to open up, to share her grief.  It was there in Delenn's face, in her words and manner.  But Susan couldn't do it.  She couldn't even open the door to that part of her heart; she was too afraid of being overwhelmed if she did.  Susan shook her head and sank onto a nearby bench, but didn't say anything.   Delenn seemed to understand, and sat down next to her, putting a hand on her shoulder.  Susan put a hand to her forehead and willed herself not to sob.

"I miss him so much, Delenn," she whispered.  "It never gets easier." She laughed mirthlessly and slid her gaze sideways to Delenn.  "I know that's not what you want to hear right now."

Delenn patted her arm, her face drawn.  "I would not want it to get easier," she said.

"No," Susan replied, looking down at her hands, "neither would I."  

The silence stretched on for a long moment, and Susan closed her eyes against the flood of memories that threatened to drown her.  Even now, she could remember exactly how the warm pressure of his lips had felt against hers.

"Susan, there is something I need to talk to you about before you leave," said Delenn softly.

Susan opened her eyes and raised her head, feeling impatient.  She was tired of pretending she didn't know where conversations were going, tired of acting like things were new.  

Most of the last twenty years had bored her the first time around, and she still wasn't sure why she hadn't made more of an effort to change things.  She felt powerless against her own knowledge, constrained by the very future she had come to liberate.  

"I know," said Susan.  "You want me to lead the Rangers."

"Did John say something to you already?"

"No," said Susan.  "I just…had a feeling that might be it."

"I'll need someone to…take John's place," said Delenn.  "I would like it to be you."

Susan smiled.  "I could never take his place," she said.  "But I will do my best."

"Then you will do it?" said Delenn, looking at her in surprise.  "I thought you would want some time to think about it."

Susan laughed, and she could hear the bitterness in it.  "Time is all I have.  But yes, I'll do it.  I need a change."  She was aware that her reasons for accepting, despite the many layers coloring them this time, were essentially what they had been a lifetime ago: working with the Rangers would bring her that much closer to _him.  _

"Thank you," said Delenn.  "You won't regret this decision."

Susan smiled at her.  "No, I know I won't."  She stood up, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be in her bed with the lights out, away from the tangible reminders of her past.  "I'm going to go to bed.  Good night, Delenn.  Thank you for the offer…for everything."  Delenn stood and Susan hugged her.  Susan could feel the waves of sadness emanating from Delenn, and she squeezed her hand before turning to go down the hallway to her room.

_Nothing changes except me, she thought. __And even that doesn't make a difference._

~**~

**August 9, 2183**

A hand stroked her forehead.  "Beautiful," he whispered.

She rolled toward him and opened her eyes.  "You always say that," she teased lightly.

"Because it's true."  He pulled her closer to him and she snuggled against his bare chest.

"Oh…I've missed you," she sighed.

"I know." He paused.  "I love you, Susan."

She wasn't sure why the words disturbed her, but they did.  She opened her eyes, and saw the wires creeping up his arm.  She shut her eyes tight.  "No," she said out loud.  "I didn't let it happen."  She opened her eyes again, and saw the shard of crystal buried in his chest, right near her face.  "NO," she said, more loudly this time.

"I love you, Susan."

She was falling, falling down the length of the bed, which had suddenly tipped as if it wanted to eject her.  She fought to hold on to him, but he was slipping away from her, his voice fading.

"Marcus!" she called, but there was no answer.  She hit the bottom of the bed, and slammed hard into a body she did not know.

Susan sat straight up in bed, cold sweat covering her body.  She fumbled for the bottle of pills on her bedside table, automatically swallowing two before even bothering to turn on the lights.  Looking around the room, she took in the spartan comfort of her personal quarters on Minbar.  The sight of her own things all around her was a vague comfort, but she couldn't shake the unsettled feeling the dream had given her.

She drew her knees up and rest her forehead on them.  The dreams had never left her, but they had grown worse these last few months—ever since Ben Apollo had come to train with the Rangers.  She hadn't expected to find herself so deeply affected when she met the young man again, though she had been waiting for it for years.  And now his invention was only  few months away, if things happened the same way they had before…

Susan fell back against her pillows as the acetizyne took effect, closing her eyes and trying to summon the first part of the dream.  It was worth it, to hold him in her mind in happiness for a moment, even if the pain would inevitably follow.

~**~

**October 18, 2283******

"Entil'Zha!"

"Yes, Dranar, what is it?" Susan stopped and turned to him, her heart pounding.  "A problem with the simulation?  I'll go find Ben—"

He gave her an odd look.  "No, I merely wanted to tell you that everything is in place."

"Oh."  Susan frowned.  Today was the day, she knew that.  She remembered the exact date.  It was unnerving for things to start out differently from the way she remembered them.  She shouldn't be surprised really; she had noticed many small details that had changed this time around.  The design that ran along the wall of the corridor she was in now, for instance—she remembered it being comprised of shades of blue and purple, but now she saw that it was distinctly green and blue.  Like so many things, she wasn't sure how much of the change was a trick of her memory, and how much was reality.  

"Entil'Zha?  Is something wrong?"

Susan came out of her own thoughts and shook her head.  "No.  No, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?  You will pardon my saying it, but I have noticed that you have been a bit…preoccupied…lately."  He inclined his head slightly and cast his eyes downward, as though afraid this statement would offend her.

"I'm fine," said Susan sharply.  She paused and took a deep breath.  "I'm fine," she repeated in a calmer tone, with a somewhat forced smile.  "I just…needed to get the bed adjusted.  Haven't been sleeping well."

Dranar frowned.

"Don't even say it," she said, shaking her head.  "I'm tired of hearing about bad luck."

Dranar nodded and cleared his throat.  "Well…all the preparations have been made.  We are ready to begin at your word."

"We'll begin in one hour as scheduled," said Susan.  "I need to find Ben now.  There's something…I need to talk to him about."

"I believe he is in Science Lab 2," Dranar called after her as turned and strode down the corridor.  She gave him a distracted wave of thanks and continued on her way.

Susan passed through the doors of the Science Lab and looked around.  The lighting was low, but she easily found Ben, hunched over a tangle of wires and metal on a low platform.  Her heart skipped a bit as she recognized the machine.  This, at least, had not changed.

"Ben," she said, walking toward him.  Her voice shook slightly.  "Ben," she repeated in a louder tone.

Ben started and turned toward her, the same slightly manic glint she remembered in his mismatched eyes.  

"Lights up," Ben said in Minbari, and the illumination in the lab increased to its normal level.  "Entil'Zha," he said, inclining his head slightly.  "Is something wrong?"

Susan crossed the room to him.  "No, nothing's wrong.  I was just wondering where you were.  What is that you're working on?"  She worked to keep her tone casual and only mildly interested.  This was difficult, as part of her wanted to push him aside, grab the machine, and run for the door.  But she had to make sure she knew what she was dealing with.  If something had changed…

Ben looked down at the machine too, and his ears went pink.  _A good sign, thought Susan.  "It's…nothing," he said.  "Just something I was working on for my own amusement."_

Susan leaned forward in spite of herself.  "What is it?"

Ben gave her an odd look.  "Have you ever seen an old program called _Quantum Leap?"_

She gave an inward sigh of relief.  "Yes," she lied—she didn't feel like listening to his explanation of it again.  She didn't need to.  

Ben looked disappointed, as though he had been looking forward to regaling her with details.  "Oh.  Well, you know how the scientist in that show jumps into different people at different points in his own lifetime?  He has to keep jumping around from person to person—"

"Yes, I know," Susan interrupted.  "So you've built a time machine?"  She was running out of patience with playing this part.  She'd played it for far too long.

"Uh…yes, pretty much.  Well, it's not exactly the same as on the show," said Ben, leaning forward and carefully connecting two wires with a molecular fuser.  "It won't preserve the host body the way they did.  I know they made that up, because I don't see how that's even scientifically possible."

"Still no way to get back," Susan said under her breath, vaguely satisfied by this.  

"What was that?" asked Ben, looking around at her.  

"Nothing," said Susan.  She casually inched around to the opposite side of the table, where she could see the machine better.  "So how does it work?"

Ben looked surprised and gratified at her interest.  "Well, this is targeted.  Right here," he pointed to the front of the display, "you can set exactly where, and when, and who you jump into.  See? You can set it to within fifteen minutes."  

Susan nodded.  "And how is it powered?"  She knew she should be more careful, less direct, but now that the device was within her reach, she could hardly stand it.  

"Oh!" said Ben with a frown.  "That's the thing.  It's all just theoretical.  I can't even test it.  This requires an enormous, sustained tachyon field.  There's no natural source of tachyon emissions that could supply enough energy, and any artificial field would burn out long before the device was even triggered."

"I see," said Susan, her heart swelling within her.  It hadn't changed.  Not at all.  She straightened up.  "Ben, the simulation will start soon.  I need you on hand in case any of the equipment fails. You can work on this later."

Ben nodded absently, already hunched over his machine again.  "Just one minute…"

"Ben," Susan said sharply.  "Now."

He sighed and sat up, putting down his molecular fuser.  "Yes, Entil'Zha."  He pulled a cloth over the machine and pushed the platform back against the wall.  

"Ben," she said in a more gentle tone.  He turned to her.  "Thank you…for showing me the machine.  I'm sure it would work just fine if you could get the power for it."

He gave her a lopsided grin.  "Thank you," he said.

Susan smiled.  "Do me a favor.  Tell Dranar that I just thought of something I need to take care of.  Tell him to go ahead and lead the simulation himself."

Ben frowned.  "Entil'Zha?"

"It's something important.  I can't put it off."

"As you say," said Ben, nodding his head respectfully.  He left the lab, and Susan waited for his footsteps to recede down the hallways before rushing over to the platform and gathering up the machine.  

~**~

No, nothing had changed.  And for once, Susan was glad.  She followed Zathras down the corridor and into a familiar chamber.  He muttered to himself the whole way, and Susan actually found it comforting.

He stopped by a stone table.  "Show Zathras the machine." 

Susan set the machine down carefully on the table.  She had already set the targeting dials; she didn't even feel the need to check them.  It was amazing, really; the first time, she had felt nervous, overwhelmed, afraid.  But now there was only the clear direction of her heart, more certain than ever.  "All I need is a sustained tachyon field, wavelength of two meters, particle density at level ten."

 "What is this machine for doing?" 

"It's a time travel device," said Susan.  She looked up, challenging him with her eyes.  He quailed slightly under her gaze.

He muttered and clicked softly, then shook his head.  "No, no, no.  Zathras cannot be doing this.  Draal would not like it."

Susan laughed, the sound hysterical to her own ears.  "I knew you would say that."  She pulled out the PPG hidden at her waist and pointed it at him.  "Send me back," she ordered.  "Now."

**The End**


End file.
